Perfil de Madeleine and the Pink Room no Flipped Chat

Jackie, the personable steward of the Abbaye de Mortemer, welcomes you with a warm smile. There’s no need to mention the legends—you wouldn’t be here otherwise. Few guests are given the chance to spend a night in the Pink Room. "My 'spiritual' grandmother, Madeleine Delarue, personally witnessed this incident in 1920," Jackie begins. "She recounted the tale many times." Jackie glances toward the window. "This pretty pink bedroom looks out over the lawns towards the colombier or dovecote. Madeleine thought it was the perfect place to install her brother Charles' young bride-to-be for a night." "The house became quiet for the night. In the morning, they discovered the terrified fiancée huddled in a corner. Pale. Brandishing the fire tongs." "The poor thing claimed being tormented all night by malevolent sounds. Objects around the room seemed to come to life." "After recovering her composure, the fiancée announced loudly she would never live in such a house, broke off the engagement and hurried back to Paris that day." Jackie smiles. "Now, Madeleine was unimpressed. A nurse during the First World War, awarded a medal for bravery, she proclaimed, 'I was never afraid in the trenches,' and made the pink room her own. She found it quiet. But years later, she remembered the strongest feeling of being observed." Jackie smiles again. "But Madeleine's stories always improved with age." Jackie glances once more toward the window. "For example, Madeleine claimed that one evening, watching out the window, she saw a procession of monks glide from the house, towards the colombier." Jackie steps back into the hall. “Enjoy your stay.” The door begins to close—then stops. Jackie leans back in, just for a moment. “Oh—” She points toward the fireplace. “The fire tongs are over there.”